


Champagne

by Deathtouch



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Ball Gags, Blushing, Degradation, Facials, Gags, Humiliation, Kneeling, M/M, Masturbation, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Shame, Under-negotiated Kink, Verbal Humiliation, Watersports, restriction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:16:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4807679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathtouch/pseuds/Deathtouch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>☛ in which rhys pisses all over himself for jack's amusement</p><p>
  <i>“Forget what I said just then, pal. You know I’d never hurt you. Right? Except for… the handful of times I did try and choke the life out of you. But I want to put that behind us. I got other plans for you.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Champagne

**Author's Note:**

> wow ok! this is only my second time writing jack and my first time writing rhys. i've never played the borderlands games, just tales from the borderlands, and am a little nervous to share this! i hope it's acceptable considering my lack of knowledge! i want it to be the start of many more rhack fics in the future, and i hope to improve with each one! 
> 
> this is a gift for the absolutely amazing [lynxcat](http://lynxcat.tumblr.com/) (aka [bigilynx](http://bigilynx.tumblr.com/))! they wanted to read some rhack porn with ball gags and humiliation. how could i say no? without that suggestion i never would have bought tales from the borderlands or played the game so thank you so much, friend! and thank you for letting you share all my filthy rhack hc with you :') i hope you enjoy the fic!!
> 
> this is a also a gift for my beautiful beta [subwaywolf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SubwayWolf/pseuds/SubwayWolf). this april i watched 20 hours of a borderlands 2 playthrough just for him. if i hadn't done that, i wouldn't be here writing this authors note today. wolfu, you have been preaching the gospel of handsome jack all this time, and i'm sorry it took me so long to finally receive the president of hyperion into my heart! thank you for letting me barge in on all your fandoms and trample all over the good pairings with my filthy kinks and raunchy fanfic. most of all, thank you so fucking much for all your hard work you do with beta-reading and fixing my mistakes. i am a literal goddamn mess without you. i am so grateful to have you as a friend and editor. god bless you subwaywolf. thank you, thank you, thank you! 
> 
> that being said i did go through and add some stuff to this fic after it was beta-read so any mistakes are my own, and not my beta's fault. he is perfect, and i am a grammar error machine.

The champagne was impossibly expensive. Most people would buy a bottle like that to keep in their liquor cabinets as a cherished treasure, not to drink. Handsome Jack, of course, was not most people. He peeled away the gold leaf like it was unwanted plastic and popped the cork, letting hundreds of thousands of dollars pour onto the carpet in the form of champagne foam.  
  
Rhys was damn near sickened by the luxury of it all. Like Jack’s penthouse wasn’t one ridiculous expense after the other, and now this?  
  
“You wouldn’t try to show off for me, would you?” Rhys asked, eyes wandering around the place. Some day he would own a place like this and waste his own fancy champagne for no good reason. For now he was more than happy to be in Jack’s suite and in his presence.  
  
“Don’t make me laugh, kid. I don’t need to do anything to impress the likes of you.” Jack held out the bottle, foam running down his knuckles. “C’mere. Drink this.”  
  
Rhys wasn’t about to refuse. He crossed the room, taking the bottle. Jack was watching him like a hawk. A handsome hawk. Rhys smiled to himself at the thought, taking a sip. It wasn’t until he had the bottle tipped back that Jack spoke again.  
  
“Ever been someone’s punching bag before, Rhysie?”   
  
Rhys damn near spit out his mouthful of champagne, sputtering some down his chin.  
  
“Ah, ah! Only _I_ can waste that, numb-nuts,” Jack warned him sharply. “You drink up, and don’t let me see you choke on that again.”  
  
Rhys swallowed, and coughed for real now that his throat was clear. “Right. Uh… the only thing I want to choke on tonight is-“  
  
“I’m gonna stop you right there before you embarrass yourself.” Jack clapped a hand on his shoulder, much too hard to be playful. He led Rhys towards the armchair at the other end of the room.   
  
If the champagne cost more than Rhys’ salary, then the armchair was a lifetime’s worth of paychecks. The leather was hand-crafted and genuine, and the wooden frame carved from a now extinct tree. The lasts of its lumber had been used to make a seat for Jack’s ass. It couldn’t have met a more honorable end.   
  
“Forget what I said just then, pal. You know I’d never hurt you. Right? Except for… the handful of times I did try and choke the life out of you. But I want to put that behind us. I got other plans for you.”  
  
Rhys took another small sip of champagne. For something so rich, it tasted pretty damn dry. Maybe fancy champagne was supposed to taste like an old sock. He wasn’t sure. “Plans?” That sounded… only slightly ominous.  
  
“A little begging, some kneeling, you make a mess in your pants, and I laugh at how pathetic you are.”  
  
Oh, those kinds of plans. Rhys could feel the back of his neck turn red. With his flesh hand gripping the champagne bottle he brought his cybernetic hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. Somehow the nervous gesture didn’t feel quite right with metal fingers.  
  
It wasn’t like he wasn’t into those kinds of things. The verbal abuse he got from Jack was every fantasy he’d ever had since he’d first seen a piece of Hyperion propaganda. The smiling face on the poster, those handsome good looks, how could he not want to be degraded by a guy as smug as that?   
  
Rhys had come to terms with his wants a long time ago, and he wasn’t afraid to embrace them here and now. He just wasn’t quite sure if Jack was into this whole thing. They had fucked in his office that one time, but that was quick and filthy and Rhys had been kicked out immediately afterwards. This was… this was something different.  
  
“That sounds pretty nice, actually. But-“  
  
“No ‘but’s, kiddo. I even bought you a gift to cement the deal.”  
  
Rhys had to laugh. “A gift? You bought me a gift?” Handsome Jack didn’t buy people gifts…  
  
As they reached the arm chair and rounded the side of it, Rhys noticed something sitting on the cushion. Sure enough Jack picked it up, and then he handed it over magnanimously.  
  
Rhys accepted the gift into the palm of his prosthetic hand. It was… a gag? The yellow ball in the center felt like silicone, maybe, the cybernetics weren't great with picking up texture. The straps were stiff black leather, he could see that with his eyes. His weight sensors detected a heaviness, and the ball seemed awfully big.  
  
Rhys suddenly recognized the gag and jaw propped open. Oh… oh no.  
  
Jack tossed his head back, laughing upwards in amusement. “Dude, you _really_ gotta learn to clear your search history on your computer. Or not look up sex toys at work. You do know Hyperion monitors internet usage, right?”  
  
Rhys could feel his blush crawling from the back of his neck to his ears, coloring his face. “I do clear my history!” He had only been looking it up on his break! It wasn’t even a dirty site, it was a mass retailer! “I was on an anonymizer. I went into the log and cleared everything by hand.”  
  
“Aaand I still found out. That’s why they pay me the big bucks, kiddo. It’s a good thing you’re working in acquisitions instead of network security, because then I’d have to fire you.”  
  
Rhys turned away, bringing the champagne up to his mouth and taking a giant gulp… and then another… and then another… and then just one more after that. Jack was still laughing at him by the time he was done. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was afraid to embrace his wants here and now. Humiliation sounded like a whole hell of a lot of fun, until he was being humiliated in real life. Rhys kind of just wanted to hide.   
  
This was Handsome Jack fucking with him, after all. _Handsome Jack_. Never mind the fact that he was indeed as handsome as his namesake implied, but the guy was so powerful and so in control. It was everything Rhys had ever dreamt about and so much more terrifying than he ever could have imagined.  
  
“So, what do you say? Should we give this thing a whirl or not?”  
  
Jack was actually serious about this? Rhys wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. Of course he wanted to use the gag. This was practically plucked from his imagination; a fantasy coming to life. There was no way he could say no. “I’m in,” he agreed.  
  
“Good. Finish off that champagne first,” Jack ordered him.  
  
Rhys lifted the bottle, eying how much was left through the green tinted glass. He wasn’t even close to halfway done. He took another big gulp at once, and the alcohol burned down his throat. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” he asked between mouthfuls with a coy smile.  
  
“Something along those lines,” Jack frowned, heterochromatic eyes focused only on the bottle. “Jesus, there’s that much left? Okay, never mind. I don’t have the patience for that. Get on your knees.”  
  
Rhys’ knees practically went weak on their own accord. It was like second nature for Jack. It was like he didn’t even care about the orders he gave. It was like he knew Rhys would do it no matter what. He didn’t even make it special, just blurted it out and tacked it on to the end of what he was saying. This was no big deal for him. Rhys wished he could be as suave and nonchalant.   
  
He could feel that blush creeping up on him again. He wondered if he’d had enough to drink that he could blame the alcohol for flushing him. Best just to get on his knees and hope he didn’t look too red-faced. It wasn’t hard to guess where Jack wanted him. The carpet in front of the armchair seemed as good a place as any. Rhys stepped over and sank to the floor. It felt… kinda right to kneel there.   
  
Jack seemed so damn tall from this position. Tall and lean and _handsome_. Rhys’ heart may have skipped a beat. He… actually couldn’t believe this. Couldn’t believe he was here doing this. He couldn’t believe Handsome Jack had taken a liking to him. What was it Vaughn had said? _Of all the people in the universe Handsome Jack could be interested in, it just so happens to be the guy that’s totally obsessed with him._  
  
Not obsessed. No, no, no. Not obsessed at all. Rhys had some fantasies, sure. Some deep-seeded, highly sexual fantasies, but that didn’t make him obsessed!  
  
“That’s a good boy.” Jack smirked at him, ruffling Rhys’ brown hair.  
  
Oookay… he _was_ obsessed. The words turned to butterflies in Rhys’ stomach and he could practically feel himself growing lighter. Obsessed, obsessed, obsessed. Obsessed with Jack’s perfect hair and cool clothes and the way he smiled. Obsessed with the condescending way he talked down to people, insults and compliments alike. Obsessed with Handsome Jack; Rhys was obsessed.  
  
Jack reached down to take the champagne bottle out of Rhys’ fingers, and then the gag. He took a sip of champagne before moving to sit in the arm chair. He looked lofty and kinglike, so regal in the way he was sitting that it wasn’t even fair. Jack could have done anything at all and it would seem impressive. Looking up at him from the floor was a hell of a way to see the man. Rhys would be lying if he said he didn’t like the angle.  
  
“Sit back on your heels,” Jack instructed, motioning with the bottle as he spoke. “And spread your thighs a little more.”  
  
Rhys moved to follow through with every order wordlessly. He was more than a little pleased to be told exactly what to do.  
  
“I guess you’re not totally useless after all, huh, kid?” Jack seemed so proud of him it was hard not to be anything than grateful for the sentiment, though somewhere in the back of his mind Rhys knew he should be offended by a comment like that. “Now take that robot hand of yours and grab your other wrist, behind your back.”   
  
Rhys’ prosthetic was perfectly functional, but twisting his arm at an odd angle like that made the motors slow. Jack was surprisingly patient, watching intently as Rhys brought his cold metal fingers to cinch around his flesh wrist. He held tight.   
  
“Lock the rotors,” Jack continued. He knew what he wanted and clearly had no problem demanding it.   
  
He may as well have slapped a pair of handcuffs on with an order like that. If Rhys locked his cybernetics down, there was no moving them. Still, he complied. He sent the systems in his arm into standby. It would be easy to get his arm moving again, of course, but for as long as the motors and gears were locked his arms were trapped behind his back.  
  
Rhys realized, in that moment, what he must look like. On his knees, thighs spread, arms behind his back, face angled up to look at Jack. His stomach twisted in a knot and he could feel his cock pulse.   
  
“Attaboy.” Jack smiled, and everything Rhys had just felt double in intensity.   
  
His stomach twisted again, butterflies fluttering, and he knew he was getting hard. Fuck. That was what he was here for, he supposed, but he was almost embarrassed by how easy it was to get it up for Jack. All it took was a submissive position and some praise.   
  
Jack set the bottle of champagne aside, close to his foot, and took the ball gag into both of his hands. He stretched it out length wise admiring the whole of it. “Ready, kiddo?”  
  
He didn’t even have to ask. Rhys nodded, all too eager. He parted his lips too, just in case the nod wasn’t enough of an invitation. He wasn’t shy at all, but he was a little self-conscious in that moment. How dumb did he look with his mouth hanging open? Embarrassment warmed his face before eventually pooling warm and thick in his stomach. Rhys kind of liked the feeling, though, it had an edge to it.  
  
Thankfully Jack didn’t leave him hanging too long. He slid the silicone ball in passed Rhys’ parted lips and let it sit between his teeth. He brought the straps around the back of Rhys’ head and buckled them carefully, mindful not to pinch any of Rhys’ short hair. He wasn’t usually so gentle, but the arrogant expression on his face counteracted any tenderness pretty thoroughly.  
  
“It suits you,” Jack decided, and that was about as much of a compliment as Rhys was like to get.   
  
Rhys was surprised by how much of the ball he could feel on his tongue; how heavy it was and how unnervingly smooth. What he really wasn’t expecting was the way the straps dug into the corners of his mouth. He’d have marks when they were done. Wearing the gag made him aware of the fact that he was breathing through his nose. The sudden cognizance that one little ball gag could bring to so many parts of his body was kind of unsettling. A good sort of unsettling, though, same as the embarrassment that warmed his stomach and made him feel sharp and ready.  
  
Jack plucked up the champagne bottle he had set aside, and lifted it in something similar to a toast. “Now, we wait.”   
  
Wait? For what? Rhys made a muffled noise, inching forward.   
  
“What, you didn’t think I cracked open booze this expensive just to see you drink it, did you?” Jack’s face twisted into an unkind sort of grin that made Rhys feel weak. “I want to see you piss it back out, all over yourself, and you’re not leaving until that happens, cupcake.”  
  
Rhys wasn’t blushing anymore, instead he blanched. White hot fear clawed at his throat and made those butterflies in his belly turn into twisting snakes. He fervently shook his head from side to side as a knee jerk reaction.  _Please don’t make me,_ Rhys might have said, had his mouth not been stuffed with a silicone gag.   
  
“Yeah, no. It’s not really an option here, sweetheart.” Jack explained, matter-of-factly. He leaned back in the arm chair with a nonchalant shrug like he could fucking care less about whether Rhys was up for this or not. In an even more blasé gesture he took another sip of champagne, and the sloshing of liquid within the bottle made Rhys want to cry. God. He’d had so much to drink. He could feel it now, more aware of his bladder than he had been a moment ago.  
  
Jack left him kneeling there until Rhys’ legs went numb and his jaw began to ache. He found he was unable to stop himself from drooling and spit pooled on his clothes. The thought of unlocking the rotors in his arm never occurred to him. He could have easily undone his gag, stood up, and walked out… but he didn’t. He couldn’t say no to Jack. He  _didn’t want_  to say no to Jack.   
  
The longer he sat, the more his resolve crumbled. It wasn’t that his resistance was giving way for some poignant reason or anything… he just really had to pee. Rhys went from mildly concerned that he wouldn’t be able to hold it to literally squirming, shifting his weight from knee to knee as he tried to hold back. He was still horrified by the idea of wetting himself in front of another person, but at the same time he had to  _go_.   
  
Jack flat out ignored him. He peeled at the label on the champagne and waited, one eyebrow cocked up in boredom. He had patience now that he hadn’t before. After a while he set the champagne aside and stared at Rhys like he was looking through him, lost in thought about something else. It made him feel utterly unwanted and that feeling brought with it a twist of shame.  
  
Numb, aching, and desperate to piss, Rhys let out a small noise.   
  
Jack’s eyes focused, and a smirk curled over his masked face. “How you holdin’ up there, Rhysie?”  
  
Rhys shook his head, squeezing his thighs together as if that would help him hold his bladder.   
  
“C’mon.” Jack leaned forward, coming closer to his face. “Just let go. It’ll feel good, I promise.”   
  
Rhys considered, thought about how good it would indeed feel, but a rush of humiliation burned through him and he let out a sob instead. It gave him no relief, but the noise sure made Jack smile. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. As desperate as he was to please jack, and relieve himself, the notion of what he was doing stopped him every time.  
  
“Need some help? Is that it?” With the toe of his shoe, Jack moved to nudge Rhys’ cock and balls. The degrading treatment of being ignored and left to drool all over himself had kept him hard this whole time, and the sudden stimulation had Rhys crying out around his gag. He doubled over, whimpering.   
  
He couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t help it. One little nudge and the seal was broken. Hot piss burned from his cock, warming his pants and turning them soggy. Jack’s laughter pricked up his ears, but the sound was lost to a low tone that rang in Rhys’ head like a horrible siren. Shame and embarrassment brought tears to his eyes. The piss just kept coming.  
  
Once he’d started he couldn’t stop. He knew he was making the carpet wet, and it was getting all over his shoes and Jack’s too. He cringed and hid his face in his shoulder like he could hide from the horror of what he was doing, but that only made him more aware of what he was feeling. Rhys was wet and warm and covered in it…  
  
“God, you’ve got no idea how pathetic you look right now,” Jack said, his words cutting through the silent droning noise of humiliation that had been buzzing around in Rhys’ brain. Jack’s voice wasn’t as smug-sounding as usual, instead it was breathy and low.   
  
Rhys dared to crack his eyes open, glancing up at Jack fearfully.   
  
Jack had taken his cock out, tan and thick and red at the tip. He was jerking it noisily; slick, wet sounds emanating from each stroke. Rhys’ throat went dry, remembering the feeling of Jack being buried balls deep in his ass. He had thought that Jack was going to fuck him again when he’d agreed to come over, but instead he was sitting here in a puddle of his own piss. Jack was enjoying it at least, back arching as his wrist worked.  
  
“I bet you love it, don’t you?” Jack moaned. His foot twitched, pressing the wet fabric of Rhys’ jeans against his cock. He’d finished emptying his bladder and now he was just wet and hard. The sensation made him muffle out a strangled noise, which Jack took in the affirmative. “Yeah, you idiots always do. Any order I give you, and you revel in the opportunity to do it for me.”  
  
Rhys blinked away his tears, nodding. He’d just pissed himself for fuck’s sake, he wasn’t going to deny that it was true.   
  
“You’re going to love it when I come all over your face too, aren’t ya, kiddo?”  
  
Jack’s mask did little to hide how his face was twisted up in pleasure. The frantic pace of his stroking let Rhys know just how close he was to coming. Rhys nodded again. He wanted it.   
  
A few more seconds of determined jerking and Jack came with a grunt, splattering white hot come on Rhys face. Rhys flinched, eyes closing. He could feel where it landed on his cheek and chin and on the straps of his gag. It only made his cock pulse with pleasure. He felt disgusting and cherished all at once.   
  
Jack leaned back, recovering his breath. “…Not bad,” he muttered after a moment.   
  
Rhys whimpered gratefully. He swore he could have come just from hearing those words alone.   
  
After pulling himself together, Jack undid the gag. Rhys’ jaw ached and his teeth hurt from biting the damn silicone so hard. It took a second for his arm to unlock and so he had to sit there with jizz on his face and piss all over him. He kept his head down, not wanting to meet Jack's eyes in that moment. Jack let Rhys use his shower, making no comment about the wet mess of Rhys’ pants or the stain on the floor. Rhys hurried off.  
  
A tiny part of him was excited that he was getting to use Handsome Jack's shower and smell his soap and shampoo, but that part was mostly smothered by the humiliation and shame of what he'd just done. Rhys leaned against the wall trying to keep himself together.  
  
He jerked himself off, knowing he wouldn't be able to handle a walk home with a hard cock. He tried to think about Jack smirking at him and his handsome face and the way he said 'attaboy' when Rhys had gotten onto his knees. Instead he ended up thinking about Jack calling him pathetic, and the feeling of being covered in his own piss. Rhys whimpered low when he came. He scrubbed himself hard with soap but didn't quite feel clean afterwards.  
  
Jack was generous enough to let Rhys borrow a pair of sweatpants to wear home. They were Hyperion issued, with the company’s logo stretching down the side. It wasn’t a personal item Jack was handing over, but Rhys was still going to treasure it.   
  
“How’s about we do this again, same time next week?” Jack asked, one hand on Rhys’ shoulder as he led him towards the front.   
  
Rhys ducked his head, wet bangs falling onto his forehead. “I-“  
  
“I’m thinking… maid outfit,” Jack interrupted, and Rhys didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “You can scrub your piss out of the carpet while I fuck you from behind.”   
  
Rhys had just rubbed one out, but the suggestion was like a punch to the gut and suddenly he was ready to go all over again. The sweatpants were so loose Jack could see it when Rhys’s cock filled up. He laughed in amusement.   
  
“I’m taking that as a yes.”  
  
Rhys couldn’t say no to Handsome Jack… and he didn’t really want to.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading
> 
> [tumblr](http://deathtouch.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/deathtouchxx)


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